


A Fantastic Chase or A New Ancient Greek Myth

by Fido_Barkin



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Ancient Greece, Black Character(s), Blind Character, Blindness, Chases, Demigods, F/M, Fantasy, Greek - Freeform, No Sex, Parent Aphrodite (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Romance, Shapeshifting, Tailoring, sfw, vitiligo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 14:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20658899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fido_Barkin/pseuds/Fido_Barkin
Summary: Yolanda is the most beautiful woman in the polis. One day her father announces that Yolanda has decided to marry, however, she would only marry a man who was pure of heart. In order to find such a man a contest would be held. Whoever was able to catch Yolanda's pet cat, Callista, and present the favor attached to the cat's collar would be the man whom she would marry.Only, Callista is no ordinary cat. She has a secret that none would ever suspect, and she wouldn't be so easily captured.





	A Fantastic Chase or A New Ancient Greek Myth

It was a balmy day in the polis. A salty breeze was blowing in from the sea, and the merchants had just begun setting out their wares when a mighty horn call was sounded. After much bustling the inhabitants of the polis assembled in front of the dais from which their archon would address them. 

True to form the archon stood before them as his family sat in gilded thrones behind him. He was tall and lean with his alabaster toga casting a stark contrast against his jet skin. His aureate eyes shone with a gleam that was only matched by the sun's rays glinting from his golden jewelry.

The bangles on his wrists clattered as he raised his arms and addressed the crowd. “My people! Today I have an announcement for all of you!" The gathered crowd began murmuring amongst themselves. "As many of you have witnessed, my daughter is as beautiful as one of the daughters of Aphrodite!” The crowd applauded his praise for his words were true indeed. As she sat in her regal throne next to her mother, Yolanda, daughter of the archon, looked resplendent in her garments of white and blue silk. Her skin was jet, just like her father’s, and her eyes shone with the same ethereal brilliance. Her hair fell to the middle of her back in thick, tightly formed curls that shone every so slightly with fragrant oils. Her curls were held back from her face with a golden circlet which revealed an abundance of freckles, as if the stars of the heavens had been captured and set in a field of ebony. She wore gloves of the purest white as it was said that nothing in the world was worth being touched by a being so fair. 

The archon motioned with his hands and the crowd’s cheers died down before he began speaking again. “Yes, my people! She is indeed a fair one, and though it grieves my heart as a father to announce this, my sweet Yolanda has informed me that, after turning away countless suitors, she has finally decided to marry!”

A roar of cheers came again from the crowd, but this time they were much more distinctly masculine. The archon motioned for quiet once more and then added, “Yes, yes. I understand your eagerness. However! My daughter has informed me that she will only wed herself to one who is true of heart, and as such she has proposed that a contest be held to test the mettle of those seeking her hand!” He motioned to one of his servants and they brought to him a black cat with white paws and a black, white-tipped tail. “This is Callista!” He presented the cat for all the congregation to see. “It was at Yolanda’s urging that she be given the task of finding the man who would be a suitable husband. Now that you have seen her I will explain the rules of this contest! Whomever of you can catch Callista and remove my daughter’s favor from her neck, that man shall be considered to be worthy and pure of heart!” The archon scritched the top of the cat’s head and added, “But! Do not be fooled by Callista’s calm demeanor this morning. She is as wily a beast as I have ever seen. It will take the skill of the greatest huntsman to catch her, and even that might not be enough!” He motioned to his servant again and the cat was taken away. 

“One more thing!” he added in a voice as cold and hard as iron. “Should any ill fate or harm come upon Callista during this contest, the one who harmed her shall be dealt with as though they harmed a member of my personal family. I trust everyone gathered here takes my meaning.”

His words hung in the air like a sheet of iron, unable to be challenged and absolute. 

Then, as if to dispel the tense atmosphere, Yolanda rose from her seat. Walking up to her father she laid a gentle hand upon his shoulder. The archon’s tense and serious figure visibly softened and he turned to kiss her upon her brow. “Father,” she said with a voice like the morning sun, “I would like to speak, if I may.”

The archon took his daughter’s hand and lifted it to his lips. Kissing her gloved fingers, he said, “Of course, my dear. Today is for you, after all.” He then retreated to sit on his throne as Yolanda stood alone at the edge of the dais. Her robes of ivory and azure billowed slightly in the morning breeze. She drew the salty air into her lungs and announced, “Good people of my father’s polis! Today I stand before you as a prize to be won, but make no mistake, I shall not be won easily. Truly this will be a task that even the mighty Heracles would struggle with and fail at if he was not meant to succeed. All methods of capturing Callista are allowed save for those that would harm her, as my father has stated. I look forward to seeing who among you will prevail in this challenge and take my hand in everlasting matrimony. May the gods favor each of you in this endeavor.”

With her speech finished the crowd erupted into cheers as every man and a handful of women slapped each other on the backs and spoke words of good fortune towards each other. After Yolanda sat down, the archon stood up and announced that Callista would be set loose into the polis at noon, and once the challenge had begun, Yolanda would stay secluded in the temple of the gods until her favor had been retrieved by whomever was successful. With that the crowd dispersed and plans were made by those who wished to win the great beauty. 

One such person was a hunter from a foreign land. His name was Burge, and as was his custom, he wore the skins and pelts of his kills in place of more traditional raiment. He was a large man, broad of chest as well as belly, and covered in thick, coarse hair that obscured much of his sun-tanned skin. He wore his hair cropped short, but also sported a long and unruly beard. As noon approached he saw and heard several of the polis’ inhabitants making plans which he, due to his experience hunting feral beasts, knew were doomed to failure. Rather than chase after the wily creature which held his prize, the hunter decided to set up traps baited with savory bits of fish and fowl since he knew that cats loved those meats above others. He even ground up some herbs from his native land that were effective on the lions he hunted and sprinkled it upon the food. This herb would drive any feline from their senses, and they would roll it through their fur making them docile and easy to capture. 

After Burge set his traps throughout the city, he waited. As he roamed the polis he would often catch sight of Callista running through the streets with a horde of toga-clad men chasing after her. He knew best that the cat wouldn’t be caught that way, and that she would be hounded too relentlessly for her to have time to inspect his traps so Burge retreated to his dwelling for the night. 

As the days went on, many men tried and failed to catch the black and white beast. Burge would check his traps daily, but after a week it was clear that a passive approach wasn’t going to gain him the prize he sought. Therefore he took to watching the feline as she ran through the streets. He spent another full week memorizing her patterns and trails before finally deciding the best course of action. That morning he donned his animal skins like normal and then he began to wait. As the sun rose, he knew that the time was soon at hand. He readied his net as he hid behind the stone wall, and as soon as he spotted a pink nose and the glimmer of whiskers he cast his net. 

Callista, however, was smarter than Burge had thought, and her nose was more keen than that of the average house cat. She knew that the hunter was waiting behind the wall because she could smell his skins. The pelts gave off an odor that was wild and feral and had no place in her city. As the net descended upon her she cartwheeled backwards and caught the edge of the net with her hind legs. Her momentum carried the far edge over her back and when her paws touched stone again the net was sitting, empty, underneath her tail. She looked the wild man in the face before giving him a tiny smile and then darting off as the usual stampede of suitors picked up her trail. 

Burge fell to his knees, bewildered at the cat’s movement and then her expression afterwards. He then decided that she must be no cat at all, but rather a scion of one of this land’s many gods. He resigned himself not to meddle with these gods, and as such relented from the challenge for Yolanda’s hand.

* * *

After several weeks went by Callista sat sunbathing on one of polis’ many rooftops. She stretched her right hind leg out and began grooming herself. As she did so she thought about the wild man who had come so close to capturing her those weeks prior. She smiled to herself as her tongue rasped through her fur. ‘It was a valiant effort,’ she thought, ‘but it will take more than traps and pretty smelling perfumes to catch me and claim my favor.’ She marveled at her leg. It was her favorite one since the white fur from her foot came further up this leg than any of her others. After satisfying herself with a job well done Callist curled up and let the sun’s warmth soak into her dark fur, and she was soon asleep. 

A loud crash suddenly woke her from her nap. She quickly scrambled to her feet and saw that a large, overly-muscular man clad in leather armor was now on the rooftop with her. She could not see it, but she assumed the crash must have been whatever this giant used to climb up crashing back to the ground after losing it’s balance. 

‘And just when I thought I would get some peace.’ Callista frowned. 

The over-large man on the rooftop was named Damos. Among the soldiers in this polis he was unmatched in both sword and spear. He had only recently returned from a battle and learned of the trial that could win him Yolanda’s hand in marriage. Many of the polis’ citizens urged him not to attempt the challenge. They told him of how Callista had managed to evade every one of their schemes and traps. Many of them thought that she must be a spirit that Yolanda was granted by the gods themselves. 

Damos would hear none of this, however. Instead, he immediately began seeking out the elusive feline. After talking with several people, a young boy —he had made it a game to keep up with Callista’s whereabouts— told him that the cat had leaped up to the roof of a house nearby just before mid-day. After hearing that, the soldier then began stacking barrels and boxes as he climbed up to the rooftop. When he pushed himself up onto the edge, however, his foot pushed the barrels over and they fell with a great crash. 

After assuring his footing he removed from his back a large spear shaft topped with what looked like a hay fork with a leather thong between the tines. He pulled a piece of dried fish from the leather pouch that he wore at his waist and tried to offer it to the cat. However, Callista wasn’t biting. She knew from the beginning that people would try to tempt her with food. That being said, when she turned her head to look at the piece of fish she didn’t see Damos throw the spear at her. Her only warning was the keening of his oiled leather armor as his rippling muscles stretched it to its fullest. She just barely managed to avoid the projectile, but not all of her. Her tail was caught under the thong as the twin ties buried themselves deep into the surface of the rooftop. She then knew that this spear was intended to pin her in place, and Damos only dared to use such a deadly weapon because he was confident in his skill and knew that he could aim for her without hurting her. However, she wouldn’t give him another chance to use the weapon if she could help it. 

Quickly, Callista pulled her tail free from its fetter and dashed across the roof. Damos hadn’t counted on missing his throw, but he quickly recovered and bolted after the black and white form. He drew from his belt a short net and decided, if his spear skills wouldn’t win him his prize then he would show his proficiency with a sword. He slashed and stabbed at the cat as he ran, each time the net just barely missed by centimeters. He followed Callista as she bounded off of the roof and led him on a wild chase through the polis, but soon Damos’ pace began to slow. While the big man was surely skilled in the art of war he never did have the stamina for long runs. As soon as Callista noticed this, she knew that he would never claim her. She led him around the polis for several more minutes before the giant collapsed and fell to his knees. He leaned on his net for support, gasping and sweating so badly that his leather armor appeared soaked through. As he tried to recover from his sprint Callista walked up to him while staying out of the range of his net. She sat on the stone street in front of him and stuck out her favorite leg. She gave it a few licks before lifting her head and looking down on him with the tip of her tongue sticking past her fuzzy lips. She then shook herself and casually walked away, quickly jumping up to the nearest rooftop so no one could scoop her up. 

Damos attempted to catch Callista several more times as the weeks went on, trying out new forms of non-lethal weapons on her, but every time he missed his opening attack, Callista would run him around the city until he was exhausted. In the end he finally gave up and had to admit defeat. He was sure that no one, neither god nor man, would ever claim Yolanda’s favor from the beast. 

* * *

Several more weeks passed and word about the trial spread from the polis all the way to the capitol. During that time chasing Callista became a famous trial that many heroic sorts attempted yet ultimately failed. The people were getting agitated and begged the archon to make the trial easier for them, lest Yolanda never marry at all. The archon scoffed at their request saying, any man who could not tame a simple house cat would never be able to tame his daughter. 

As such, the trials continued and Callista continued to avoid her pursuers. It had been months since the start of the trial when a strange man came to the polis. He wore a wreath of gilded laurel (a trophy bestowed only upon those who win in Olympic events) and a silk toga that showed his lean figure. The name he went by was Gerrick, and his skin was ebon just like Yolanda and her father’s. It was rumored that he came from a land far to the south, further even than the archon’s homeland, and well past the far shore of the Mediterranean. He was originally sold as a slave, but won his freedom when he proved himself in the sprint years earlier. He held his head high as he introduced himself to the archon and insisted that he had come to claim Yolanda’s hand for himself. He had heard the tales of her beauty, and he guaranteed that only he, above all men, had what it took to catch Callista and retrieve the favor from her. The archon gave his blessing for Gerrick to attempt the feat, but warned, as he did with all newcomers, that no harm was allowed to come to Callista during the trial. The sprinter nodded and bowed. He then began stretching his legs for the chase that was to come. 

It was early morning. Callista still had water droplets on her whiskers from her morning drink. She yawned and stretched as the sun broke over the horizon. ‘Ah~ Helios is creating another beautiful sunrise as always~’ she thought. She then descended down into the polis to let the masses have their fill of chasing her again today. This time, however, the polis was strangely silent. As she walked the rooftops she didn’t see the usual merchants carting out their wares, nor did she see the fishermen kissing their husbands and wives before departing for the day. The city was strangely silent as she plodded along on her padded feet. 

When Callista finally made it to the town square she saw only a single figure standing in the center. He was tall and lean and wore only a loincloth and a pair of sandals. His darkened skin tone told her that he was new to the area and she was sure that he was here to attempt to catch her. She jumped down from the roof and walked into the square before yawning and shaking her head. She was sure that this would just be another braggart who would give up after she lead him around the polis for a bit. She saw the man crouch down and knew that he was getting ready for the pursuit. As soon as the man made his move Callista darted off as well. 

At first Callista wasn’t paying attention to the man. She thought that he was nothing special and as such didn’t look back to see just how quickly he was closing the distance between them. It wasn’t until she felt a hand close around the tip of her tail that she realized how wrong she was. She quickly juked to the side, freeing her tail, but the man stayed right on her heels as she picked up speed. She ran faster and longer than she usually would, yet for some reason this stranger was able to keep up with her. After several minutes of running through the streets she decided to hop onto a few boxes and jump up onto a roof. She was sure that the man couldn’t follow her as easily up there. 

Callista was wrong again, however, because as soon as she flew up to the roof Gerrick also climbed up. Using his agility and flexibility he was able to take advantage of even the slightest gap in the stones to pull himself up. Once he was on the roof Callista lead him from rooftop to rooftop, back down into the streets, and back up again. This continued for nearly an hour non-stop. Callista thought that the man must surely be starting to tire, but when she chanced a glance backwards she saw that he wasn’t even breathing hard. 

Gerrick continued to chase Callista for hours that day, never losing sight of her for more than a second. Callista’s muscles ached and her lungs burned as she continued running away from the stranger. She knew that she couldn’t keep this up much longer, but at the same time she wasn’t ready to let herself get caught just yet. As she ran she remembered that there was a house with a window that was always open just around the corner. She’d never paid it much attention before, but she was desperate for a place to hide, and if she was quick about it, she knew she could clear the opening and hide before the sprinter could turn the corner himself.

As she came upon the corner, Callista formed an image of the window in her mind. She wouldn’t have time to look at it before she leaped. She was going to have to jump and hope that she remembered how high it stretched. As the stone formations of the house passed her, Callista closed her eyes and leaped into the air. Her body sailed harmlessly through the window with her tail disappearing from view just before the sprinter turned the corner. Once her calloused paw pads hit the floor of the building she immediately backpedaled and threw herself against the wall just beneath the window where she collapsed, panting and exhausted. She heard the sprinter curse as he turned the corner and saw that his prey was nowhere to be found. She then heard him say, “You there! Did you see a cat run this way just now!?”

There was the sound of a soft chuckle and then Callista looked up to see a man standing next to her. She had seen him before, but had never really paid much attention to him. The man spread his arms and said, “I must confess, I have seen no cats running any kind of way. For you see, I’m-”

“Bah! If you didn’t see the cat then you’re no good to me!” With that Gerrick continued running down the street, cursing both himself and Callista as he went.

Callista never took her eyes off of the man. She knew that she was too tired to run anymore, but she hadn’t counted on meeting someone else as soon as she evaded her most current pursuer. The man looked down, almost at her and he stretched his hand out in her direction. “Now then,” he said. “Who could you be?” 

Callista swiped at his hand with her claws and hissed at him. She had accepted any and all who would seek Yolanda’s favor from her, but she would never let someone take it from her in such a cowardly manner, not while she was completely exhausted from another man’s efforts. 

After being scratched the man lifted his hand and backed away. “Ah. My apologies. I’m assuming you’re the one the man just now was looking for?” He stopped and turned his head to the side. “It sounds like you’ve had a rough day. Please allow me to get you something.”

His voice had a strange tone to it, and his clothes were unlike the normal flowing robes that people wore in the polis. It was clear that he came from the far north (his clothes and accent were like those of travelers from that area), but she wondered why he hadn’t tried to seize the favor that hung from her neck. Most men would have made the effort despite her warning swipe. She tried to catch her breath as the man busied himself with a shallow bowl and a clay bottle.

When he returned he sat a bowl of fresh milk before her and said, “I hope it’s to your liking. I bought it last night when I heard that a new challenger was coming from the capitol. Everyone decided to stay home today to give him the best chance they could as he chased after the archon’s pet cat.”

Callsta hissed at him.

“Oh? My mistake. I meant, ‘his daughter’s cat.’”

Callista let out a week meow in confirmation. She then looked up and saw that the man’s eyes weren’t normal. Instead of having the usual colored iris that most people’s eyes had, his irises were off-white and resembled freshly polished marble. She had seen elders in the polis whose eyes looked the same and she suddenly knew why the man had said what he said to the sprinter that was chasing her. He was blind.

After sitting the bowl down the man felt around the room before finding a small wooden chair. He turned it in Callista’s direction and sat down. 

“Now then. Since you are the one who intruded into my home, it would normally be proper for you to introduce yourself first. However, I can still hear you breathing heavily so I’ll introduce myself instead.”

The man gave a slight bow and said, “My name is Geoffrey. I’m a tailor by trade, and this is my workshop.” He gestured to the interior of the house and Callista saw that sashes and bolts of fabric lined the walls as well as small ropes with knots in them that she knew were for taking measurements. She saw hundreds of spools of thread as well as several garments hanging from crude statues.

“I’m sure I know who you are, but you don’t have to worry. I was never interested in the trial from the start.” He felt around on the table for a piece of fabric and a needle and continued talking. “I mean, people often speak of Yolanda’s beauty. I hear them every day, but I myself have never seen her.” He passed the needle through the fabric and Callista watched as he carefully measured the spacing for his next pass with his fingertips. “I’ve never seen anyone, if I’m quite honest.” He stuck the needle through the fabric again and smiled. “But life hasn’t been too bad. I've always got plenty of work, and I learned a skill that I could use without seeing what I’m doing.” He made several more passes with his needle and then fingered the stitching. “I will admit that it would be a dream come true to see one of my garments once it was finished, but I have a good idea of what each and every one of them look like.” He continued sewing. “After all, I know almost every single thread in my clothing better than most people know the backs of their hands.”

Callista’s breathing was starting to come under control. She tried to pull herself towards the milk, and soon was lapping from the bowl.

Geoffrey’s smile widened when he heard this. “There you go. Drink as much as you like, and don’t feel as though you must rush off. You’re free to stay here and rest for as long as you like. I only ask that you try not to get any fur on the togas. It’s hard enough to remove cat hair from clothing for people who can see, and it would be twice as hard for me.” He then reached over, found the edge of his work table, and adjusted his chair before he continued working with the fabric.

Callista wound up spending the entire rest of the day in Geoffrey’s home. After draining the bowl of milk she slept soundly, and when she finally awoke she found that she was sore all over from her chase that morning. She also found that she had been covered with several layers of unprocessed fabric. Quickly checking to see that Yolanda’s favor still hung from her neck she breathed a sigh of relief. She then stretched her aching muscles and crawled from under the fabric. Her head bumped into something and she heard the shifting of coins. Looking up she saw that a small canopy had been placed above her while she was sleeping and a few coins had been tossed upon it. 

At the sound of the coins Geoffrey’s strangely accented voice said, “Ah. I see you’re awake. You've been sleeping for hours. You must have been especially tired.”

Callista looked at him and tilted her head. She wasn’t sure what to make of this man. He seemed so gentle, and yet he was clearly able to provide for himself. There was also the fact that he had every opportunity to take Yolanda’s favor from her while she was sleeping yet he hadn’t seemed to touch the token. He was an enigma among the men in the polis and as such her curiosity was truly piqued for the first time in months. She walked up to him and sniffed at his trousers. He didn’t smell like the rest of the city. His clothing gave off a fresh scent that reminded her of the meadows and rivers that she used to play in as a child. She needed to investigate him more, but for now the sun was setting, she was hungry, and she needed to get back to the archon’s home. 

She jumped up on the window ledge and stretched again.

“Leaving so soon?” 

She turned back to see Geoffrey’s unfocused eyes looking in her direction. She meowed at him.

“I see. Well, come back again if you like. You're always welcome here if you need a place to hide and rest your paws.”

She meowed again and then jumped down to the street and made her way back to the archon’s house. She didn’t encounter the sprinter again, but there were several other men that still hadn’t given up hope and tried to catch her. She avoided them easily and was soon back in Yolanda’s room where a plate of liver had been set out for her. After eating she jumped onto the bed and curled up before falling soundly asleep again.

For the next week, every day, Callista was plagued by the attempts of the sprinter as he tried to catch her. She had learned her lesson, however. It seemed like the sprinter was only as fast as she was, not faster. That meant, as long as she never let him catch up to her like she did the first day then she would always have a lead on him. She began to enjoy the chase near the end. Her body had gotten used to the long periods of running and she could feel that her legs had gotten stronger as a result of the exercise. After the seventh day Gerrick finally gave up the chase, swearing and proclaiming that not even Hermes himself could catch Callista. He declared her to be a spawn of Hades and spat on the ground before leaving the polis for good. 

* * *

After that the attempts to catch Callista became fewer and fewer and she had more chances to visit the tailor who had given her refuge from the sprinter a week prior. 

The more she visited him, the more she tested his resolve that he wouldn’t take Yolanda’s favor from her against her will. She even began allowing him to touch the token. When he first did this he laughed as he found it to be a simple obol coin. Callista laughed to herself as well because she knew that the tailor could not see the gold paint that made every one of her pursuers think that it was a specially made golden drachma. 

Days went by and Callista continued to visit Geoffrey every day. She even took to playing with his spools and scraps when he wasn’t looking. She would bat at his thread as he tried to sew, and just made herself a general nuisance, but Geoffrey didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he enjoyed her company. He would talk to her as if she were a real person and gave her plenty of respect and reverence. It was a truly happy time for the both of them. 

Then, one day Callista came to visit Geoffrey and she found the tailor with his head on his crafting table and a wine skin leaking its content onto the garment that he had been sewing the day before. The cat approached him and nudged his hand with her nose. 

“Callista? Is that you? I’m sorry, but I’m in no mood to play today.” He sat back in his chair and let his head hang over the backrest. 

Callista jumped down from the table and pawed at his trousers before meowing. 

“I just… I had a bad day.” He reached down and scritched the top of her head before hiccuping. “I was supposed to create a gown for a politician’s wife, but somehow my measurements were off and when I presented it to her it didn’t fit.” He grabbed the wineskin from the table, spilling more of its ruby red liquid and further staining his most recent project. He took a draught from the skin and then added, “I know my measurements were right… Heh. Maybe she got fat.” He took another drink from the skin before throwing it back onto the table without stoppering it first. 

Callista couldn’t bare to see him in this state. She had watched him complete that gown and saw how proud he was of it. It was heavily embroidered with time-intensive scrollwork along every hem, and it had been sewn with three different types of fabric. Callista didn’t know much about tailoring, but she did know that it would be a grueling task, and indeed a blow to Geoffrey's pride as a craftsman to have to cut out or unstitch the hems if the woman truly had already outgrown the garment. She looked at Geoffrey in his depressed state and wished that she could comfort him. She walked around his workshop as she thought of what she should do. After several minutes she finally decided. Geoffrey had been the only one who had been able to take Yolanda’s favor from her and yet refused to do so. Instead, he had shown her kindness and given her a place to stay when the daily chases overwhelmed her. 

As Geoffrey sat in his chair with his head swimming from the wine he felt a hand upon his cheek. He started and said, “Who… who’s there!? I didn’t hear you come in. Identify yourself!”

“Shh. Shh.” 

The voice landed upon his ears like a sunrise, warm and full of comfort. His eyes filled with unbidden tears at the sound. “Who… who are you?” he asked in a trembling whisper.

“You know me already.” came the voice and Geoffrey felt the hand upon his cheek again. 

This time he didn’t shy away. Instead, he pulled his own hand up and touched the delicate skin of the one who was caressing him. 

“Can it be?”

“It is.”

“Callista?” Geoffrey’s voice was a whisper of astonishment.

The unseen voice laughed playfully. “Oh my dear tailor. You are right, but only half-so. For you see, I am not just Callista… but Yolanda as well.”

The tailor nearly fell from his chair as he gasped in surprise. Yolanda caught him however, wrapping her dark-skinned arms tightly around his tunic-clad chest and steadying him. 

Geoffry stammered in his amazement. “Wha- Bu- How? And… and why!?” 

Yolanda laughed again. She had expected this sort of reaction. She pulled the tailor back onto his chair before grabbing a chair that was meant for his clients and sitting opposite from him. 

“As the story goes, when my father was young he took a pilgrimage and came to this land. Since he was a stranger to all, he climbed a mountain that he heard was inhabited by the gods of this land and sought their favor. There were many trials that he had to pass before he was allowed to glimpse the gates that were said to lead to the land of the gods, but once he was there, rather than walk through the gates on his own, he decided to offer a tribute to the gods of this foreign land. One of the tributes was a golden spear, formed in his homeland by the best smith that he knew. The second tribute, and the one that won him the favor of the gods, was a seashell made of glass that had a pearl of ivory set within its delicate form. Upon presenting this tribute the goddess Aphrodite revealed herself to my father and offered herself to him so that she might bear him a child. It’s said the reason she did this was because she saw how thin the glass shell was and knew that no normal mortal could make a trip such as my father made without shattered the delicate object.” She took his hand in hers and said, “I am the child that Aphrodite bore for my father. My mother knows this and loves me as her own despite the fact that I am not truly hers.”

Geoffrey sat in his chair bewildered. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and thought that the wine was playing tricks on him.

“So… then that would make you a demigod?”

Yolanda never tired of this man. She smiled broadly and said, “Yes. It’s because of my half-god blood that I’m able to take the form of Callista.”

The tailor pulled his hand away from her and said, “I don’t believe you. I have heard the tales of the gods in this land, but they’re nothing more than myths and folktales.” He crossed his arms and said, “I hope you’ve had your fun. I hope you enjoyed startling a blind man while he’s drunk. Now please leave. I’m not in the mood for games, and at any rate, anyone could tell me that they are Yolanda and I would never be able to dispute them.”

The woman folded her hands in her lap and played with the fringe of her robe before saying, “If I truly was Yolanda, then I would give you my favor of my own free will. If I was to do this, would you take it?”

Geoffrey scoffed. “If you are Yolanda who was Callista then you know that I never desired your favor. How could I marry someone that I would never see and who would never be seen by me? It would be a joke to all that saw a union of that kind.”

Yolanda reached forward and took Geoffrey’s hand again before her brow against his. 

“Then see!” she said. “See me!” 

Goeffrey felt a strange power surge through his body and, to his astonishment, light began to fill the darkness that had been in his eyes from birth. As he continued to look, forms soon began to take shape before him. A moment later those forms sharpened as his marbled eyes gained a verdant luster and he was able to see for the first time in his life. 

Tears filled his eyes as the form of the dark-skin woman filled his vision. Her ivory freckles dazzled him and her golden eyes peered into his soul. Unable to contain himself, the tailor wept heavily at the gift of sight that he had just been given. He clutched at Yolanda’s robes, staining the alabaster fabric with his tears. He no longer doubted a single word that she’d said.

Yolanda held him as he wept, and she wept with him, overcome with emotion. The two embraced for several long minutes until Geoffrey finally calmed down enough to speak. 

“I just… A miracle. This is truly a miracle!”

Yolanda offered him the gilded obol and asked again, “My dear tailor, I ask you again. Will you recieve my favor from me? Will you allow me to offer myself to you as your wife?”

Without hesitation, Geoffrey accepted the small coin and said, “Yes. It would be the honor of my life, for no amount of time as your husband could ever be payment enough for the gift that you have given me this night.” Then the two kissed and Yolanda departed from him, telling him to come to the archon’s dais in the morning where it would be announced that he was the winner of the trial of Callista. Geoffrey watched as the curly-haired women quickly shrank to the form of the familiar feline and hopped onto the window ledge. She meowed at him once and then was gone.

The following morning the tailor did as he was told. Wearing a blindfold, as was his usual custom when in public, he made his way to the dais where Yolanda was sitting with her mother and father. Once there, he presented the gilded obol as proof that he had won Yolanda’s favor from Callista. After it was confirmed that it was indeed the genuine favor, Geoffrey was invited onto the dais where Yolanda performed the same gestures as when she restored the man’s sight the night earlier. The entire polis erupted into cheers as it was revealed that the tailor’s sight had been restored. The archon watched his daughter and her soon-to-be husband as they embraced before the congregation. 

It took an entire month to prepare the wedding feast and at it Geoffrey was hounded relentlessly by the men who tried and failed to catch Callista. They all wanted to know how the blind tailor was able to catch the feral beast, but he had no answers that they would accept. Him simply playing with the cat for weeks without trying to seize the favor from her neck was just too unbelievable for them.

The feast was so large that it attracted people from all over the land. Of these people Yolanda honored the hunter, Burge, the warrior, Damos, and the sprinter, Gerrick. To each of them she offered medallions of pure gold for coming closer than anyone else to catching Callista. To Gerrick she gave an additional bag of drachmas for actually being able to touch Callista, a feat that none of the other pursuers were ever able to accomplish.

As the feast came to an end, Yolanda led Geoffrey to her bedroom. There she allowed him to marvel at a true daughter of Aphrodite as much as he wished. He ran his hands over her toned body, made lean by her constant running for the past few months. Even if it weren’t in her current form the exercised still transferred despite which body she was in. The tailor stopped when he got to her hands (the skin upon her forearms lightened to an almost cream color halfway down). They were pale, and hard calluses had formed on the palms, a result of Callista’s white feet running for weeks on end. Geoffrey kissed her palms and said, “The trial for your favor was truly a difficult one, for you as well as for those that sought you.”

“Yes, it was.” agreed Yolanda. 

The two then embraced and shared their first night together as husband and wife. 

* * *

Several weeks later it was announced that Yolanda was with child and another feast was had. Geoffrey continued to work as a tailor, and it was said that the addition of his sight took his skills to an almost god-like level. Everyone, both men and women, came to him when they needed something made for a special occasion.

As for Yolanda, her first child was a beautiful girl. She had her mother’s dark, curly hair, but her father’s paler skin tone. Like her mother she too had freckles, although hers were dark spots upon her lighter skin. Yolanda and Geoffrey had several more children as the years went on, and they lived a peaceful life for the rest of their days.


End file.
